


A One-Day Love

by orphan_account



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: (it needs some work), Angst, Aww, Eventual Smut, First work - Freeform, Getting Together, I know nothing about sports, I wrote this instead of doing my homework, I'm writing my own chemistry, M/M, Not-so-slow burn, Okay okay, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance, Sibling Love, Soccer, crankiplier - Freeform, fuck you chemistry, how did i forget that tag, i'm done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mark is used to one-day loves: the rush of adrenaline, the blank void of sleep, the cold, sterile sever of apathy. He lives for the temporary- because his future doesn't look all that bright.Ethan is used to the lingering. His life is composed of savoring the good and ignoring the bad. He craves the persistent fatigue of tired muscles, the sweet aftertaste of love, the habitual motions of every day.Is love truly endless? Or is it as fickle as humans can be?





	A One-Day Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, future readers! I'll try to keep this brief, but I just wanted to say thank you for clicking on my story, and I'd appreciate it if you left a comment to let me know what you think- even if it's a hate comment. Tell me how to improve! I know I probably need it. Thanks! :)

Maybe it was the rush of energy that made Ethan feel this way. The pounding of his heart, crashing into his lungs with each thud of his cleats on the field. A floating, indistinct euphoria, mingling with the bone-deep fatigue of a long day used well. Each quick blink, absorbing and calculating flashes of color, the world tinged with a surreal vibrance, blurry and clear all at once.  
Maybe it was this contrast that he loved, the simultaneous extreme opposites. The dark sky, riddled with pinpricks of light. The quiet of the sleeping world against the boisterous energy of the crowd. It was everything and nothing, it was rapid and sluggish, it was endless yet never quite lasted long enough.  
Whatever it was, it was an overload of sensation. Split-second images, heat-of-the-moment decisions- hell, it even sounded like chaos. The game seemed to have a special kind of discordant melody- panting breaths escaping from his lungs, shouting from teammates and fans alike, the dull thud of a connecting kick. Every rush of footsteps and cacophonous cheer from the crowd echoed in his thoughts.  
And though it was overwhelming and tense and painful, Ethan wouldn’t trade it for anything.  
He never felt as alive as when he was playing soccer.  
-  
Watching the last wisp of smoke trail towards the sky, Mark glanced toward the game he was supposed to be watching. He had never been one for athletics, preferring the quiet solemnity of back alleys and side streets, where he could waste away his life in hurried deals and the ashen taste of cigarettes. There was good money in it, anyway.  
But this game was different. It was his means of escape from the new curfew he was now limited by. Under the urging of his sister, Salem, Mark’s parents had enacted a rule- no staying out past midnight on school nights. Unless, of course, he had a good reason.  
Which was how he ended up at the soccer game, smoking behind the bleachers. The smoking wasn’t part of the deal, but the school spirit and “family time” with his sister was. Even if that family time was simply driving her there and letting her run off with her sophomore friends.  
Mark sighed, smoke puffing from between his lips. He turned his head to look onto the field as another rumbling cheer resonated through the stadium. The game was almost over- he supposed that their home team was winning from the amount of cheering. Salem would probably be begging to leave soon, and as much as he didn’t give a shit, letting his kid sister find him with a cigarette was not on his agenda.  
With another sigh, he tossed his cigarette onto the damp asphalt and returned to the world.  
-  
Ethan wove his way through the crowd, slipping through the chattering throngs of people. The press of bodies and the smell of cheap beer and sweat mixed with the sticky air to create the unique, intoxicating atmosphere that seemed to lurk in the corners of every high school party.  
He hated them all.  
The deafening pounding of some too-popular rap lyrics, the influx of barely-clothed people, the curdled scent of vomit and heady air- it was too much. Every one of his team’s post-game celebrations was the same inebriated clash of euphoria and revulsion.  
Ethan slipped through the crowded room, searching for a familiar or even slightly welcome face. His fingers clutched a red cup filled with foamy beer, more calories than alcohol. There were too many people here- all of them posing and prancing elaborately, or at least using the alcohol as an excuse to do whatever they wanted, be it make out, fight, or dance with limbs flying.  
Focused on weaving through the horde, Ethan didn’t notice the girl until her nails were clutching his elbow. Startled, he turned to see her and her friend standing behind him, both distinctly disheveled as if they had fought through a windstorm to reach him.  
“Um, hi?” He questioned. “Do I know you?”  
Tilting her head in a way that was probably supposed to be seductive, the girl who had grabbed him purred, “No, but you could.”  
Ethan frowned. He supposed she was pretty enough, with fiery wine-colored hair and talon-like nails to match, but her eyes were dazed. Her friend wasn’t much better, her bleach-blonde hair ruffled unflatteringly, her shirt unbuttoned dangerously low. It was clear that the wine coolers they clutched in their long-nailed grasps weren’t their first.  
Sensing his hesitation, the blonde leaned forward, a strange smirk fixed on her face. Ethan pointedly looked away from her chest. Neither of the two girls seemed to catch his disinterest, or they just didn’t care.  
“Sorry, ladies, but I’m just looking for...Grant. Perhaps we could talk later?” Ethan hedged, backing slowly away, trying to end the conversation.  
Speech clearly slurred and clutching her friend for support, the red-haired girl mumbled something along the lines of “See you later, sweetheart,” though her exact words were lost to the alcohol and noisy chatter from around them. Ethan turned away as quickly as he could without being rude, resuming his battle through the crowded room, ignoring the dirty looks of those who received his elbows.  
He pushed his way to the kitchen door, hoping for a respite. Unfortunately, the room was filled with shouts encouraging a boy doing a kegstand. Ethan sighed. So that’s where Grant was. There was a girl puking into the sink next to him, clutching the counter and swaying. Unwilling to get involved in either of these activities, Ethan quickly moved past the figures.  
Sparing another glance at the disgruntled faces of those he’d shoved, he twisted the knob of the back door and stepped outside, desperate for the cold, calm October air.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! That's the end of this chapter, I hope you liked the beginning. I love setting new scenes for my characters to navigate. 
> 
> You might have seen in the tags that this fic contains some "eventual" smut (this isn't going to be a long fic but it will occur in the last few chapters - yes I'm a nerd, I plan my writing). The setting for this fic is smalltown Iowa, where I (partially) grew up, so the age of consent is 16. Both Ethan and Mark are 17 in this, Tyler is 18, and Salem is 16, so anything goes in that matter.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, I love feedback! Thank you, future readers- especially for distracting me from my homework (Why did I choose to take a super accelerated math course? Curse you, past self!)


End file.
